


Truth Stretched Thin

by skylinesunflowers



Category: Madam Secretary
Genre: Angst, Crack Relationships, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:07:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26552575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skylinesunflowers/pseuds/skylinesunflowers
Summary: Russell can’t believe Andrew would do something as stupid as this; endanger their country over semantics.He can’t believe he didn’t notice.
Relationships: Andrew Munsey/Russell Jackson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 8





	Truth Stretched Thin

**Author's Note:**

> Having a productive day for some reason, so let’s get this show on the road.
> 
> Title taken from a quote from _Don Quixote_.

Russell thinks he goes gray when it happens. When Andrew Munsey, who’s been the DCI for two years, who he’s known for years through Dalton, who he’s trusted, betrayed them all.

Bess is distraught, but there’s an air of calmness about her. As if she predicted this from the start, as if she knew this was going to happen. As if she never trusted him to start with.

The President is a different story. He sits at his desk in the Oval, studying his steepled fingertips as if they could ever explain why Andrew would do something like this.

Russell himself goes to his office, snaps at Adele, who doesn’t say anything. She hasn’t heard a thing from anyone, but she knows his moods. June trained her almost too well.

He pours himself some bourbon and downs it in one gulp. Russell can _hear_ Andrew’s voice scolding him. Yeah, well, he doesn’t give a damn about what Andrew does anymore.

He drinks, and drinks, and drinks, and drains the bottle. Somehow, he finds himself slumped in a chair, head in his hands, sobbing like he hasn’t in a whole. Not since - he swallows against the sharp bite of metal and death.

And, then, the door swings open, and Nadine is standing there, face whiter than it inevitably was a minute ago. She just stands there, watching the train wreck that is Russell, in unmasked shock.

“Speak!” he finally commands, trying to cover up the slight wobble in his voice.

“Russell,” Nadine says, and he doesn’t know how to respond to her. Then, she continues. “I know about the coup. The Secretary - Russell, did you know?”

Russell gets her feeling of betrayal. They tell each other everything. Mutual respect; not a friendship, but more of a … colleague-ship. But he can’t deal with this now.

“I was unaware they planned a coup,” he said, taking a harsh breath that rattled in his chest. “If that’s what you’re asking.”

Nadine takes a seat across from him and he gets ready for the headache that she and the bourbon will definitely bring on.

***

The first time he meets Mike B. is not in Elizabeth McCord’s office, because the man comes to his the day after they find out about the coup. He hands his dog, Gordon, to Adele, who’s clearly dumbfounded, but comes off cool and comfortable to someone who doesn’t know her as well.

He wants to go see Munsey. He hasn’t slept in a while, and Andrew’s on his mind. Just to get closure, Russell tells himself, but he knows it’s not true. He knows that he’s probably just as damn lovesick as the McCords.

“Russell Jackson,” he says, and holds out a hand in greeting. “I’m a big fan of your work.”

They exchange pleasantries, and he tells Mike he’s impressed, because he is. He’s witnessed results of the man’s work in person, and it is incredible. In another life, he’d do the things that Mike B.‘s done. Still, he’s here in the White House.

“I hadn’t known you were close to the DCI,” Mike says, and Russell wants to scream.

“I was,” he replies.

Everything’s starting to build up, now. The results of the damn coup, Andrew’s betrayal, and all the work he has to do. The alcohol, too, is staring to affect him negatively.

“I didn’t know you were … seeing each other,” Mike says, and he looks faintly disgusted. “It’s not that you’re … gay? I can’t see you together.”

If Russell wasn’t so sleep-deprived, he’d shoot back a smartass answer. Now, he just stares Mike B., who’s even smarter than he pinned him for, and asks dully, “Easy giveaway?”

“Not if the President doesn’t know,” Mike says. “I’ll leave you to it. My condolences.”

“You came here to give your _condolences_?” It’s impossible to describe just how floored he is.

“No. I’m couch-sitting in the building today. I just thought the stop would be appreciated.”

Pros: Russell gets to meet Mike B. Cons: Russell spirals again.

***

He tells Bess first.

She’s ranting about Andrew in her office, and he’s sitting on the couch the way he usually does, just listening. And then, when she takes a break, it spills out of him.

“I was seeing him,” he says, bordering on hysterical.

“Munsey?” Elizabeth asks. “Like, seeing him as in … _seeing_ him?”

“No, Bess. Seeing him as in I looked at him every day when I went into work.” It’s the first comment he’s made in a while that doesn’t sound downright depressing.

“Did you know about the coup?”

Damn. Hearing that question is just plain annoying now. “I didn’t, no. You - did you just suggest that I didn’t tell you?”

“No, Russell.” And now she has that guilty look on her face, the one she wears when she’s trying to make amends. “I’m sorry. Really, I am.”

“It’s fine, Bess,” he says, and she leaves it at that.

When they send her to Iran, and they lose contact, he doesn’t mind Henry yelling at him. In fact, he welcomes it. It feels like his fault. Even if it really isn’t.

***

He only sees Andrew once before the suicide. It’s in a coffee shop they used to frequent, with a girl called Marsha who loved Andrew as much as he does. Used to.

“Mr. Jackson,” Andrew says from his seat in the back, surrounded by agents who he recognizes, but doesn’t know.

“Andrew,” he replies. Russell’s heart skips a beat, and it feels like it did years ago. Back when they were better men.

“The truth may be stretched thin, but it never breaks, and it always surfaces above lies, as oil floats on water,” he says. That’s _Don Quixote_ , and it means something more than it seems.

Russell isn’t usually a ‘quoter’ per say, but he manages one last one. “Thou hast seen nothing yet.”

They find Andrew’s body when Bess comes back, and he allows himself a moment. Because, now, Andrew isn’t who he used to be. He almost killed two Secretaries of State, and Russell is a whole lot fonder of Bess than he was of Marsh.

After that moment, Russell picks himself up. He rebuilds himself, and is grateful when Mike B. doesn’t bring it up. He ignores the pitying glances Bess shoots him until one night, when he can’t take it anymore.

“Bess, stop looking at me like that. I don’t need your pity,” he says, tired beyond his years.

“No one else will pity you, and I think you need someone in your corner,” she says, so simply, as if it’s just a fact.

“Not you,” Russell snaps. “Not after what he did.”

Her mouth forms a small ‘o’, but Bess never says anything about it again. She doesn’t bring it up again, either.

Because, in the end, Russell knows that this is worth more than Andrew. The idiot he used to love, who very nearly took America down.

Andrew Munsey left Bess with PTSD, left the nation on the brink, left Russell with near impossible odds for the next election. Is he really worth throwing away his life for? When he has so much left to live for, especially.

So, he breathes. And he moves on.


End file.
